Under a Killing Moon
by Sakata Ri Houjun
Summary: A draconic tale of forbidden love and blood-soaked bigotry. SetoJou AU
1. Default Chapter

Under a Killing Moon   
By Sakata Ri Houjun

Part 1/3

Pairing: Seto/Katsuya   
Warning: Angst, sex, blood, death, AU   
Beta: Munky

Disclaimer: Ha. Ha. Ha. No.

AN: This was a basic story idea I was tossing around. For the Halloween competition I was going use vampires, but everyone's doing it at this point rendering it a cliché. So combined the original plot of warring vamp clans with a draconic idea I'd been kicking in my head and added a twist of angst to enhance the bloodshed.

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No Good without Evil. No Love without Hate. No Innocence without Lust. I am Darkness. – Legend, tagline

It's buried deep within the past, I hope it doesn't last   
It's something I already chased, I already chased   
I try to give it all away, but it's never gonna fade   
It's something I don't wanna face, I don't wanna face – _My Heartstrings Come Undone_, Resident Evil: Apocalypse

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We made love for the first time on a blissful dream beneath a shadow of death. With separation an impending possibility, we dared experience a lifetime of paradise in one brief night. We'd come to know one another in that hour of darkness to an intensity no writer had ever had the courage to envision.

His scent – not truly scent at all, but rather some vital warmth that bypassed nose and tongue altogether and thrust straight to my heart – that essence filled me now. It was unquestionable proof that he was truly alive and in my arms, and not some hallucination come to taunt my dreams.

His hair slid between my fingers, long and sleek. If I cared to open my eyes to look, I would see its' shade; a deep sable that faded to palest flax on the ends. He murmured something and stirred again, his scarred and callused fingers wandering aimlessly along my skin, beneath my tunic. A shiver rippled through me as Katsuya's cool touch slid around my ribs, pushing fabric aside so that his cheek could pillow against my bare chest. I smiled into the hair that tangled with my own. Even in sleep, he was still self-oriented, treating me as though I were a pillow needing realignment.

I wondered if he realized that this very spot that tongues and flesh entwined was where we first met. This detail would not surprise me if he could not – it was so long ago and he was considered a mere child by the immeasurable time our kind ages by. A changeling offered to my clan in supplication by a warmongering breed. The heated aura surrounding them was almost sacrilegious to our pristine chapels and gleaming spires, which was why the chosen place was of neutral ground that canceled out all strength and power.

They handed the last of their children to us, a youth no older than I who stood in wide-eyed wonder at those of us gathered. He could not understand our tongue, but the elders who held his fate in their filthy claws did. As they pushed the boy over to us, I heard the first sound from him; the scared wail of a child, full of fear and hate of his betrayal. His clan paid him no more heed, turning back and tail on him, abandoning their youngest to our mercies.

The images were vivid in my mind, as though destiny had been set into motion for us, that I would take this darkling whelp as my mate. Not that Katsuya made it easy. The dark-eyed child was not cared for by my clan, as unwanted among our shining, glittering throng as he was by those who abandoned him. For a time, he was shut away in a dark temple where he seethed in hate, narrowed crimson eyes glowing with a feral growl on his lips whenever approached.

I eventually forgot about the dark changeling child, seeing to my own growing family. The birth of my brother was a thing of great joy, something that overshadowed the memory of the boy who was taken in and locked away like an evil secret. By pure chance did I happen to find him, a shadow skulking about, newly escaped from his imposed prison.

At first I only looked at him in distaste, seeing the darkling as every one else did. He was a demonic creature, forged from hellish fires, and spawned by a bloodthirsty clan that once waged war upon us. I had heard the name given to him by the elders, a word that hissed on the tongue and meant so many unpleasant things in my language. He seemed a blemish amongst us, a black spot upon our pure white.

He did not know me, but with those eyes he hated me. I was not scared of him in the arrogance of my youth for I was the sheltered offspring of the elders, one who would eventually come to rule over the protected temples of our gods. In Katsuya's eyes however, I saw myself reflected back as one of a conceited race. Our fair appearance and piercing blue eyes came back illustrated harsh and cold as carved stone within his blood-tainted gaze.

Gods forgive me, I saw my own weaknesses tossed back in my face; the shortcomings I ignored and covered up with arrogance. My heart palpitating in fear of this truth, of his eyes, I ran. Once alone, I could only curse at my cowardice, knowing that Katsuya had no power over me for he was of a lesser race. Nevertheless, I strayed as far as possible from where the red-eyed changeling was held, avoiding contact rather than seeking a confrontation.

This did not stop him from hunting me out. With obviously newfound freedom found in the fears of my clan, he walked as freely as possible among us, everyone offering a wide berth to the child with the accusing stare. I knew this only from the hushed whispers that floated through temple corridors, later confirmed when I found him observing me from the shrouded branches of a tree overlooking the lush courtyard.

Rapidly, he grew older, his eyes ever-piercing like bloody daggers that made me shudder internally. I did not want to gaze up at him, to see once more what had been reflected back at me. With horrified certainty, it was inevitable, my head turning of its own accord to meet the crimson orbs. Although this time a new vision bombarded my brain. No longer did I see myself as he perceived me, but rather I saw Katsuya's reflection in my own gaze, like an unending mirror image tunneling towards infinity.

By the gods! He knew how he appeared to us, understood with clarity how much of a monster we regarded him as! In his eyes, he was a curse, something to fear and run from. Shame blazed along my cheeks and something akin to pity as well. He was an unwanted child, tortured by his loneliness.

The truth behind his clan's action eventually became known through his gaze. A race that was dying from its eons of battling, the blood wearing thin and knowing with dread conviction that extinction was a breath away. So the very last of their surviving brood was given to us in hopes that their blood would live on, that the ancient memories ingrained upon his young mind would carry to potential future generations. He was their living memorial and didn't even realize it.

Katsuya followed me from time to time, for I was the first to look back at him without drawing back in repulsion, the fear gone from my heart at the wretched visions I had beheld. I did not encourage his behavior, but I never stopped him even as my elders now held me in distaste. For the first time I was beginning to see my own kind the way Katsuya had because the more the darkling followed the more the appalled blue eyes turned to me.

One eve I was astonished to discover him curled up outside my chamber door, obviously exhausted from waiting for me. This was the first I laid hands on him, discovering an unnatural warmth to his dark skin and gleaming ebony scales. Fascinated, I carried him inside and laid him on my own bed. Through the night I watched, observing his restlessness, as though the very blood-soaked memories that had been implanted, that I had beheld within his gaze, haunted his nightmares.

For this act of kindness I was rewarded with his first smile the following morning. It was a timid uncertain expression, but one could see the shadowed joy that glimmered there in his accursed eyes. From then on, I welcomed his presence, finding an undeveloped desire to see more of this lighter emotion radiating from within.

I taught him to speak our language – his first thoughts conveyed were that he had always known the meaning of his name but bore it nonetheless with dignity. Secretly, I envied him of his drive; how he still strove to live even as he was beheld with contempt. He didn't wish to prove himself to anyone, only to be accepted for what he was.

In my stories, he came to see how we were an isolated breed that valued intelligence and thought itself divine in comparison with others. We never fought unless attacked first, relying heavily upon elemental forces rather than straight combat, which was in stark contrast to how Katsuya operated. His kind did not consider it true battle unless claws and teeth rendered flesh and they carved out the last dying scream of their opponent.

As we grew closer, our bodies continued to develop. On the day my wings unfurled wetly, his eyes held sad jealousy. Katsuya longed to experience the obvious freedom of flight. I could feel his longing through the intangible link that was slowly being woven between us, like an intricate braid of knots that pulled tighter every day.

The very hour that his own stretched to the heavens in newborn glory, I celebrated with him, taking to the skies to guide him since no one else would dare touch him. Katsuya's laughter was as genuine as his smile for he finally experienced what it meant to be draconic. I realized in that moment there was no true difference between our clans or us. There was also the comprehension that the pulling of my heartstrings was manipulated by the emotions portrayed within Katsuya's gaze.

In mid-flight, I took his hand and pulled him closer, challenging everything I thought I knew. That first kiss was the beginning of something dangerous for the both of us, something we had to hide for I feared what the elders would do to him and he more fearful of my fate in turn.

It was a beautiful beginning though, an emotion we shared and reveled in. Before my eyes he transformed into a laughing boisterous creature that no longer cared what others thought as long as I held his hand in secret. Katsuya took the callous whispers from my clan, losing himself against my lips, and for every stone that was tossed in hatred I would soothe the pain with my hands. The time came when we were both ready, and I took him to the very place where my eyes first beheld his dark and curious form.

In this neutral ground, we had no fear of others coming upon us – for in this place we all lose our power, no matter what the breed, and are rendered helpless. Without regret, I marked him as mine, teeth sinking deeply into the soft flesh of his throat. The primal and wild taste of his blood thrilled me and Katsuya licked my lips once I pulled back, sharing the flavor. Eventually the bite would heal, leaving a perfect pale scar to prove he belonged to no one but me.

With agonizing slowness tempered by sweet anticipation, our flesh joined, his lyrical cries mingling with my own. I never knew such sweet rapture before and knew I would never experience anything remotely close should I live to the very end of time.

This forbidden liaison would spell our doom. We both realized that the moment our lips first touched. Yet it was a price we were willing to pay, our lives forfeit to the gods' wrath in exchange for this moment.

In response to my thoughts, the firm, wiry body between my arms began to stir and I stilled both them and it with a mental kiss. As Katsuya settled back to sleep and my mind began to calm, I wondered if it would ever be my own again or if not, would I want it any other way.


	2. 23

Under a Killing Moon  
By Sakata Ri Houjun

Part 2/3  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Seto/Katsuya  
Warning: Angst, sex, blood, character death  
Beta: Munky

Disclaimer: Ha. Ha. Ha. No.

I can't control this urgent need…  
rips through my skin until I bleed… - _The Murderess_, Songs of the Witchblade

"We are so much more complicated than our names." – Dracula 2000 

"People are ignorant. They'll feel better as long as someone is punished." – Final Fantasy VII

How can such a man be hauntingly beautiful and frightfully repulsive at the same time? – 'Thicker Than Blood', fanfic

* * *

We slept together a second time amidst a sea of carnage, a moment of passion that was meant to stop the nightmare. A perfect circle that was unspoiled by spilled blood where he clung to me like a child, sobbing. I could no longer detect his scent, only the sweet thick stench of meat that clung to his mouth and the stomach-churning odor of waste that came from disemboweling a victim.

The flaxen hair was clumped together with the drying thickness of blood; his whole body was drenched in it, becoming a demonic terror. I could only press his sticky form to my own, hoping to dispel the insanity that had clouded his mind, hoping that this was the cure needed to bring Katsuya back to me despite the inferno of death he'd caused.

The race of White Dragons is a powerful and arrogant breed. I know this because I am the perfect progeny, the child from eons of ancients that lorded the dominion of skies and brandished lightning as their weapon of choice. At one point I truly believed we were superior to all other creatures, favored by the gods with proof of our gleaming ivory scales and austere blue eyes.

That was before I met the crimson-eyed Katsuya, the draconic child of those who resided in primordial and fiery dwellings of earth. The moments shared in secret were enough to last a lifetime, though I knew it was the catalyst for imminent disaster.

The mark I left behind in the wake of our passion slowly transformed into a perfect scar, a pale marring that slashed alongside his throat. He had no sense to bother hiding what he was obviously proud of, and it was only a matter of time before the truth was revealed to those with eyes enough.

We were prepared, had talked extensively about this moment from the time we even considered mating, knowing the consequences would be dire. Unfortunately when they came for us I was held blameless while he was prosecuted to the full extent of our commandments. Somehow the elders theorized that those abhorred eyes ensnared me, turning me against my own clan, against my own blood.

Katsuya was imprisoned in the darkness, kicking and screaming with that agonized wail that I heard only once before: the day his brethren offered him up to us. An ungrateful whelp they called him, a thousand sibilant tongues hissing obscenities as they tore him from my side.

As for myself, I was isolated in a shadowed chamber, chains of quicksilver burning into my skin and scale as they waited for me to snap from the assumed trance the darkling was responsible for. I could not stretch my wings for tiny hooks of this gleaming metal held me utterly still lest I rip the delicate skin; every limb lashed and bound to render me helpless. This purifying torture tore at me, closing off my mind from the link that once connected me to my mate.

In the darkness I could only imagine the tortures they were performing on Katsuya, knowing that his crime in their eyes was far more atrocious. I was not foolish to entertain thoughts of freedom or of some magical reunion with my mate, especially knowing that no one would be willing to rescue the likes of Katsuya and that I would not be willing to feign guiltlessness just to abandon him to their justice. We knew the cost, talked of the possibilities of confinement, separation, even death once we realized how far our feelings were leading us. Our emotions ran so deep that we cast aside all fear, following our hearts for something we could cling to just once, knowing that it would bring only sorrow and pain in the end.

Though a part of my heart ached to believe, I knew that more than likely they had executed Katsuya, and trapped within the circle that bound me, feeling weak and helpless by the burning quicksilver, I accepted that fact with calm clarity. My release was inevitable and I could only wonder what would become of me then. Without my dark mate, who had become such a prominent part of my life, there would be this gaping void, and I truly feared because of my sin of loving him would ostracize me, as Katsuya had been, that I would become their dark curse.

Would the gods forgive me then if I chose instead to follow my mate into oblivion rather than endure such a punishment? Or would it be Katsuya who would hate my cowardice in taking my life? I knew in my heart of hearts that what I did was no transgression or crime. I loved someone fully and utterly, letting my blood run wildly in unbridled joy as no dragon dared to experience. If I died, by my hand or theirs, I would accept it with quiet grace and dignity, knowing that our union was worth the price or else I could not have claimed to truly live at all.

Then, as though conjured by my thoughts, stood Katsuya before in the gloom of my prison. The gleaming metal that held me fast kept my senses numb, unable to lash out at my detainers or fight back from their interrogation. I could only gaze up at him dully as he towered over me in the darkness, his lashing tail gleaming wetly, eyes fairly glowing. I could see his grin, white teeth obvious and menacing when coupled with the crimson orbs that marked him not of our tribe.

I could only stare at this apparition, realizing that my mind must surely be caving in, that the quicksilver had poisoned me enough to render me delusional. My eyes closed, unwilling to be tortured, even by my own imagination. I murmured a dry plea, voice uncharacteristically weak from being trapped within this hole, asking to not be tortured so.

Claws slid against my cheeks, gentle and affectionate, the action snapping my gaze wide as I beheld my hallucination once more. I could only stare incredulously as he pulled at my bindings, snapping them with little ease, the poisoned metal hissing into his flesh. With tender care he removed each hook that burned into the delicate skin of my wings and unwrapped the coils that trapped my twitching tail.

When the final chain fell to the floor with an echoing jangle that was discordantly musical, my senses returned. Like a gate being thrown wide, my mind was bombarded with pain and power. I could feel each indentation where the quicksilver burnt into flesh and scale and taste the vile toxin that coursed through my body. My eyes rested on Katsuya once the vertigo passed me over and I knew he was real, that he had, against all thought of reason, magically rescued me.

I crushed his form against my own feebly, relief flooding my heart at our untimely reunion, thanking the gods a thousand times over for bringing him back. Slowly strength returned to me, like a warm tide that washed against my skin, familiar power coursing through my veins. "How did you escape?" I asked once I trusted my voice not to sound so pitiful.

Katsuya merely giggled, a mockingly cute sound that vibrated into my shoulder where his head was buried. It was then I realized he was wet, my hands slick and sticky from where I held him. As soon as I became aware, the smell slapped me in the face, like a thick suffocating blanket that left me gagging as I pulled away from the embrace.

Blood. It dripped from his hair and streaked his dark face like macabre war paint. Thicker things clung to his clothes and lay gooped under his claws. I could feel it itching against my face where he had lovingly stoked me earlier and I repressed the urge to scratch, knowing that I'd only smear on more of the repugnant liquid. That maddening grin was still flashed at me, eyes seeking my praise as they had done when I first taught him how to speak. With startling horror I realized that I was now coated in the cloying sweet tang of blood, streaks of dark crimson evident against my pale skin.

For the second time of my life, I fled from Katsuya, instincts taking over. I wanted to escape that cramped prison and the sickening meaty stench that accompanied my mate. Up stone steps I scrambled, not moving fast enough, feeling bile burn at my throat. For a moment I paused, the time of my captivity catching up to me, rendering me breathless and spent. The odor still lingered following my frantic departure, and I gagged, yellow bile dripping to the white floor.

Somewhere along that connection of intricate knots that bound Katsuya to me as true mates I knew he was coming, though he was in no rush, his steps purposeful and slow. I coughed and spat out the taste that clung to my tongue, feeling a cold sweat tingle along my forehead, hair sticking against skin.

I was almost to daylight, escaping to fresh air where I could take wing and flee. To where, I did not know. Maybe I wanted to run from Katsuya, from this sudden fear he inspired that made me tremble. Maybe I just wanted to break free of my clan before they discovered my absence and hunted me down. All I knew was that I wanted to get as far as possible from this sickening stench, never mind that where I went Katsuya would follow.

My full weight was thrown against the gilded doors of my prison, sunlight pouring in to bathe me in warmth. Only it could not dispel the instant iciness that ran cold through my blood at the sight that greeted me.

At first, I could not make out much of anything, like looking through a blurred window to the world beyond. It was a sea of red glistening forms that refused to come into focus, my mind protecting itself from the horror of the carnage. I continued to stare at it stubbornly, refusing to ignore whatever truth I might behold even though I already knew.

Katsuya pressed up behind me, arms snaking around my waist in loving possession. His presence startled me, heart leaping into my throat as I turned to stare at him. In the daylight he looked far more frightening, still grinning as though proud of himself despite looking as though he'd been doused in gore. His hair was stained several shades of red, from the violent wetness of fresh blood to the deep burgundy of thicker drying fluids.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he purred, resting his head against my shoulder in admiration of what lay before us.

I knew this time that I would see, my mind screaming not to look. My head turned back to what had been unidentifiable prior, suddenly stunned beyond recognizable words. Bodies littered the ground in disjointed messes. It was as though they were twisted puppets whose strings had been cut and left to bleed where they fell. Some were rendered, torn limb from limb, the parts scattered and tossed like scattered toys that lost interest. There was blood everywhere, spattered against the pristine walls of our temples, staining the countenances of carved gods as though attacked by a mad artist.

It didn't stop there. Beyond the fallen rows of men who had obviously been attempting to prevent Katsuya from reaching me were the torn corpses of those unfortunate to get in his way. A young female had been gutted, gleaming entrails dangling from her stomach like thick fleshy ropes. Another older dragon lay sprawled, chest a gaping maw of bones and cleaved flesh, leaving you guessing its true gender if not for the firm lines of his hips. Two young children had fallen at the stone steps with their heads at unnatural angles, sightless blue eyes all seeming to stare at me, blaming me for their deaths, pleading revenge.

Carnage was too weak of a word. It had been an absolute bloodbath.

I feel to my knees, hands covering my eyes. I didn't want to see anymore, didn't want to be haunted by the woeful cries of silent bodies that lay cooling in the sun. Katsuya was there with me, still holding me, rocking back and forth in a comforting matter, cooing as though I were his child suffering from a nightmare.

"They will no longer bother us," he murmured into my hair, the clawed hands that had carved out the slaughter of my clan stroking my back. "We can be free to love each other without fear. They can't take you away from me again."

I screamed and fell against him, everything shaking, threatening to fade into oblivion. He held me still, pressing curiously gentle kisses to my face, his loving eyes heedless of what he had done. The moment our link was cut, I knew he must have surely gone mad, ripped from the one person who dared to care about him, lost only to the ingrained memories of his dying clan and the torment from a lifetime of abuse and intolerance from mine. Numbly I moved, wondering if the joy found in our coupling would chase away this torment, losing my sanity within the sticky warmth of his body.

In the doorway of a temple, blessedly free of gore, I explored my mate's body, the revolting stench of his handiwork choking each breath. I kissed his bloodstained flesh, tasting the death of my kin thick against tongue and teeth. The hands that killed them toyed with me, bringing guilty moans purring from my throat. I cried as I climaxed, realizing that despite how my heart yearned for him, nothing could be the same, that the dream couldn't dispel the nightmare my life had transformed into.

The daylight gave way to evening as we laid curled about each other, a blood red moon rising full and bright to cast an ethereal glow over the forgotten corpses of my brethren. How terribly appropriate and symbolic of this moment, to see the heavens offer such a tribute, something my ancients once paid homage to when were feral and wild as the land.

A moon to take life by.


End file.
